Divide and Conquer

FORTY-EIGHT

When David Battat was six years old, he came down with the mumps and was extremely sick. He could barely swallow and his belly and thighs ached whenever he moved. Which was not so much of a problem because David had been too weak to move.

Battat felt too weak to move now. And it hurt when he did move. Not just in his throat and abdomen but in his legs, arms, shoulders, and chest. Whatever that bastard Harpooner had injected him with was debilitating. But it was also helpful, in a way. The pain kept him awake and alert. It was like a dull toothache all over his body. Whatever energy Battat had now was coming from anger. Anger at having been ambushed and debilitated by the Harpooner. And now anger at having been indirectly responsible for the deaths of Thomas and Moore.

Battat’s hearing was muffled and he had to blink to see clearly. Yet he was extremely aware of his surroundings. The elevator was polished brass with green carpet. There were rows of small bright lightbulbs in the ceiling. There was a trapdoor in the back, and a fish-eye video lens beside it.

The elevator was empty except for Battat and Odette. When they reached the third floor, they stepped out. Odette took Battat’s hand, like they were a young couple looking for their room. They checked the room numbers posted on the wall in front of them: 300 to 320 were to the right. That put 310 in the center of a long, brightly lit corridor. They started toward it.

“What are we doing?” Battat asked.

“Checking the stairwell first,” Odette said. “I want to make sure the other killer isn’t watching the room from there.”

“And after that?” Battat asked.

“How would you feel about being married?” she asked.

“I tried it once and didn’t like it,” Battat said.

“Then you’ll probably like this less,” she replied. “I’ll tell you what I’m thinking when we reach the stairwell.”

They headed toward the stairwell, which was located at the opposite end of the corridor. As they neared 310, Battat felt his heart speed up. The “Do Not Disturb” sign was hanging from the door handle. There was something dangerous about the place. Battat felt it as they passed. It was not a physical sensation but a spiritual one. Battat was not prepared to go so far as to say it was palpable evil, but the room definitely had the feel of an animal’s lair.

Odette released his hand when they reached the stairwell. She removed the gun from her holster and screwed on the silencer. Then she stepped ahead of Battat and cautiously peered through the window at the top of the door. No one was there. Odette turned the knob and stepped inside. Battat followed. He backed toward the concrete steps and leaned on the iron banister with one arm. It felt good not to have to move. Odette kept a heel in the door so it would not close and lock them out. She faced Battat.

“I’m sure the Harpooner has his room heavily protected from the inside,” she said. “Since we probably won’t be able to break in, we’re going to have to try and draw him out.”

“Agreed,” Battat said. He was tired and dizzy and had to force himself to focus. “What do you propose?”

“You and I are going to have a lovers’ quarrel,” she said.

That got his attention. “About what?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “As long as we end up arguing about which room is ours.”

“One of us will say it’s 312 and the other will insist it’s 310,” Battat said.

“Exactly,” Odette replied. “Then we’ll open the door to 310.”

“How?”

Odette reached into her pocket.

“With this,” she said as she pulled out the master key she had taken from the housekeeper. “If we’re lucky, the Harpooner will only want to chase us away.”

“What if someone else comes from their room or calls hotel security?” Battat asked.

“Then we argue more quickly,” Odette said as she took off her jacket and slipped it over her forearm, concealing the gun.

The woman seemed to be growing impatient, a little anxious. Not that Battat blamed her. They were facing both the Harpooner and the unknown. If it were not for the dullness caused by whatever was afflicting him, he would have been experiencing fear on top of his lingering anger.

“This is not a science,” she added. “The point of what we’re doing is to distract the Harpooner long enough to kill him.”

“I understand,” Battat said. “What do you want me to do?”

“When I open the door, I want you to push it back hard,” she said. “That should startle the Harpooner and also give me a moment to aim and fire. When we’re finished, we come back to the stairwell and leave.”

“All right,” Battat said.

“Are you sure you feel up to this?” Odette asked.

“I’ll be able to do what you want me to,” he said.

She nodded and gave him a reassuring half smile. Or maybe she was trying to reassure herself.

A moment later, they headed down the hall.